


How Stiles and Derek go for a run

by orphan_account



Series: Black & Orange - Wolf & Fox [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Werefox Stiles, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'Stiles loved to be a fox. Not right away, of course. A year after the bite, Stiles still wondered how things could have gotten that far.'</i>
</p><p>Or: How Stiles embraces his inner fox and goes to meet Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Stiles and Derek go for a run

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: PG - 13  
> Summary: 'Stiles loved to be a fox. Not right away, of course. A year after the bite, Stiles still wondered how things could have gotten that far.  
> Or: How Stiles embraces his inner fox and goes to meet Derek.  
> Warnings: none  
> Word Count: 2,056  
> Disclaimer: I DON’T own anyone or anything. I DON’T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.

Stiles loved to be a fox. Not right away, of course. A year after the bite, Stiles still wondered how things could have gotten that far. He and Scott, out in the woods at night...maybe that scenario should have been a warning to begin with. Scott had been bitten that way. But no. Stiles had been reckless, hadn’t paid attention. The fox had appeared then, seemingly out of nowhere, had sunk its small but sharp teeth into his calf just to run off and hide before Stiles got a decent look at his attacker.

A werefox. Darn, friggin werecreatures with their urge to bite. Even now, a year later, Stiles remembered how his mind had been spinning, fear filling his chest like a wave of icy water, freezing cold in his veins. The following couple of hours and days had passed in a weird kind of foggy mess.

How was he supposed to fully understand that the life he knew would change forever? That he would change forever? Just because of a reckless moment and an interlude with a crazy half-fox-half-human?

His attitude had changed once he had noticed his senses had improved. He could see more, hear more, smell more, even taste more. And then, there was the fur. Thick, orange fur, soft and so warm. The first shift had been a shock, although not painful like Stiles had expected. He had jumped in surprise at his own reflection, but soon had started to appreciate what he could turn into.

Furry coat, long and fast legs, the ability to run for miles and hide in the shadows...what a fascinating experience. Not that he had stopped being a clumsy idiot. Nah. But in his fox form, he showed a kind of elegance which he completely lacked as a human.

And now, a year later, Stiles thought he was in sync with his inner fox. Finally he was no longer the awkward human friend, the defenseless sidekick. Nope, he was a werecreature as well, with his very own set of skills. He could even do a full shift, unlike his best friend: that had given his ego quite a boost, he had to admit. Werewolves rarely managed to do a full shift.

Except Derek Hale, of course.

Derek Hale, that fully shifting, handsome werewolf who had come back to town for whatever reason and had saved his life. The mental image of the guy made Stiles blush, and he couldn’t tell if that was a pleasant feeling or not. There was something mysterious about the man, not just because of the dark, painful past but...Stiles didn’t even know what it was.

However, the curious part of him was determined to learn more, and his fox self was a good excuse to make it happen.

It was his impatience that eventually helped him to come up with a plan. Derek was a born werewolf from what he knew, unlike Scott. Unlike him, the bitten fox. His father had asked Derek if he could consult the guy at times when he was in need of asking questions (and unwilling to believe his son’s answers, his offended son believed). So who said Stiles couldn’t use the guy’s knowledge for his own benefit?

For that, networking was required though. Approaching. Because Derek Hale was a lot, especially mysterious and somehow frightening in a way, but he definitely didn’t seem to be a people’s person. Just casually showing up, conversing like most people did? Nah. Didn’t seem like anything the man would enjoy. So showing up at his place to ask questions? Probably not a good idea.

And so, Stiles decided to go for it in a way that would certainly catch Derek’s attention. He stripped in his bedroom (the only disadvantage of a full shift: having to get out of one’s clothes first) and stalked downstairs in his fox form. One would believe the Sheriff would be used to the sight by now, but Stiles didn’t really blame him when his father was startled for the split of a second as he made his way through living room and kitchen.

“Are you going for a run again?” the Sheriff asked, lifting his eyebrows as he studied his furry son with slight disdain. “Are you sure you’re up for that yet?”

Stiles huffed, hoping his eyeroll delivered the message. He was fine ever since he had woken up in Derek’s bed, which sounded so much more exciting than it had actually been. However, he doubted the Sheriff, always the worried father, would ever fully understand that super healing took care of almost every harm that could be inflicted on him.

“Nevermind,” Sheriff Stilinski said then, not without the defeated sigh that had turned into a habit quite some time ago. “Just be careful. And don’t stay out too long. Say whatever you like, but I do not like the idea of my werefox son running around in the woods all by himself after nightfall.”

Stiles didn’t bother to acknowledge that. No one could convince the Sheriff that he would be just fine, that he could sneak away and hide in the shadows long time before getting himself in serious danger. The fact that a hunter had shot him days ago didn’t help in arguments, unfortunately. So he huffed again, patted over to his Dad and rubbed his muzzle against the outstretched hand in a silent gesture of understanding.

A few minutes later, he was running in the woods again, and almost forgotten was his actual plan as he allowed his animal instincts to take over for a moment. It always happened that way the moment Stiles stepped into the backyard, felt the pull of nature that teased his senses ever so gently.

The world was so fascinating to a fox! There was so much to sniff to begin with. First of all, the trees had to be checked if they smelled familiar. Then, ears perked up, he would listen what was going on in the forest these days. 

He would run for joy, sometimes to chase after whatever small animal had crossed his path. Not because he wanted to catch it of course...raw meat was nothing he would ever even try. But the chase was fun, satisfied a need deep inside and made him want to shriek with happiness.

Then he would find himself a lovely place, mostly near a clearing or the small creek, with a nice view across Beacon Hills, and settle down for a bit. The sun would warm his fur, would make everything look especially pretty for his foxy eyes. Ah, the life of an animal...if it wasn’t for his Dad, Scott and a couple of other things, he would say goodbye to human life and stay a fox forever.

Or maybe not.

Stiles had been running for close to an hour when his original plan pushed its way back into his mind. He would have smirked if he could as he changed directions and headed straight for Hale territory. Ever so casually, he jogged along the invisible border, carefully walking further and further in, sniffing trees and plants that definitely smelled like Derek (now that he knew what the guy actually smelled like...a delicious scent, he had to admit).

He strolled across Hale land for not more than half an hour until he could sense the wolf’s presence. Fully shifted, of course, Stiles thought with an inner chuckle. He was close to the Hale house now, still far away enough so he wouldn’t have to see it. The place was creepy, even more since Stiles knew what had happened within those four walls. He also doubted Derek wanted to see him, or anyone else really, anywhere near his old home either.

“Hey Derek,” he said eventually, deciding to make the first step when the tall wolf didn’t make an attempts at leaving the shadows. Well...’said’ probably wasn’t the right word. Stiles had needed a while to figure out that he could communicate with werecreatures once he had shifted. For whatever reason, Scott understood the mix of noises he was making, even though his best friend wasn’t able to do a full shift. It was a were-whatever speciality, he assumed, and very helpful too. “Nice day, isn’t it? Perfect for a little run I thought.”

The wolf no longer bothered to hide but instead left his hiding spot behind a centuries old tree. Now that he was no longer in pain and fear of being killed, Stiles had the time and focus to take in the majesty that was the werewolf, and thought he would blush if he could. Derek was quite a bit taller than him, with a black, thick coat that reflected the sunlight in a fascinating way. Every inch of his body screamed power, and for a brief moment, Stiles’s instinct to flee kicked in. Impressive, he thought.

“You’re on private territory,” Derek growled then, eyes flashing a hint of bright blue. “Again.”

“That happened by mistake,” Stiles stepped closer, paws gently ruffling leaves as he went. He stopped when Derek growled again and huffed. “Man, I will never understand why you wolves have to be so territorial. Like...no one is allowed to set a foot, or a paw, upon my land or you’re gonna be shredded to pieces. Meanwhile foxes...we’re not crazy like that.”

“Because you know so many werefoxes?” Derek shot back.

Stiles tried to glare at him, but already knew that never looked as scary as he wanted it to be. ‘You still look like a giant ball of orange fur,’ Scott would say whenever he tried, and would laugh at bared teeth as if they could cause no harm at all.

“Besides,” Derek continued then, “have you ever seen a fox defending his burrow? That’d even put a wolf to shame.”

Stiles couldn’t deny the guy had a point. He had always been protective of his loved ones, mainly his father and Scott, but ever since the bite, that instinct seemed to have gotten stronger. In the beginning, he had felt like a dog hating on the postman whenever someone had dared to approach their house. He would defend it with his own life, with claws, teeth and everything he had to offer. So could he really blame the wolves for following their own instincts?

“You know a lot about us,” he stated then.

Derek looked like he smiled. “My mother made sure to teach us not only about werewolves but every other supernatural creature we might come across. My sister…”

His voice trailed off at this point. Stiles felt the rush of pain, mixed with desperation, like a blow to the stomach. His sister. Laura, maybe? There were rumors she had gotten out alive as well. But if that was true…

Now was not the time for questions though. Closing the last bit of distance between himself and the wolf, Stiles gently pushed his muzzle into Derek’s side to regain his attention. “Maybe you could teach me. And Scott, my friend. The werewolf. Bet you’ve seen him before. I know Dad already asked you. Bet you got a lot of knowledge to share with us amateurs.” He paused, gratefully noticing how the thick, dark emotions slowly started to fade again. “But for now...I’m more in the mood for a little run. Y’know, there’s quite a lot of the mysterious Hale land I haven’t seen yet. You have two options...either you show me around, or you have to go after me and catch me if you wanna get me off your territory.” He nudged the wolf again. “And we both know you can’t have a random werefox roaming your lands all by himself, right?”

Derek offered another growl in response, with less sharpness this time. The pain had faded away completely by now, and for the split of a second, Stiles wondered if the guy was grateful. He chose not to go further into that though. Another day, maybe. 

Who knew. 

Instead, he hurried ahead a couple of feet, wagging his tail in a provoking gesture to set the wolf in motion. A few minutes later, a black and an orange figure were running through the woods of Beacon Hills, getting lost in the sweetness of being half animal.


End file.
